The Kiss of the Snow
by Smash Bandiicoot
Summary: A story about the struggles of Eowyn and her relationship with Grima from girlhood to young womanhood.
1. Chapter 1

A young girl stood at the edge of the Golden Hall, the wind whipped her dress around her ankles. Her hair was secured away from her face by the braids that began at her temples and met at the back of her head. Her lip trembled with grief as she looked out to the plains of Rohan. She did not turn around when the door to Meduseld opened and a tall woman with a sorrowful countenance saw the girl upon the battlement and went to her side. She put her arm around her shoulders, the girls arms wrapped around her waist.

She looked down at her face and wiped away her tears, "Do not cry, daughter, your father is in peace now." She told her, struggling with her words. She looked out to the horizon, her hand stroking the girl's hair idly. She swallowed hard, trying to gain control, she continued, "He has found his way to the Halls of our…" her voice broke up, and her body began to shake within the hold of the girls arms. "Éomund…" she whispered as her legs gave way, the guards ran forward to catch her.

"Mother?" the girl said faintly as the men lifted her mother's limp body through the doors, she watched in horror, being reminded of her father's burial only days before. "Mother!" she screamed from the skin of her throat, she trembled violently with fear.

A tall broad man pushed his way through the space between the guards when he heard the girls desperate cry. He wore a crown on his head, with a thick golden braid falling on either side of his face onto his large shoulders. He hurried over and lifted her up into his arms. She buried her head into his neck as she wept,

"Mother…she was shaking…" she whispered as he patted her head, bringing her into the Hall. He placed her on a couch by the hearth as an old woman ran from a door off to the side. He was draping a blanket over her shoulders when the woman reached them,

"I apologize, my lord, the boys, they were…" she began but he only smiled.

"It's no trouble, Elfwyn, I am more than happy to comfort my sister's daughter."

"Of course, my lord." She bowed apologetically.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I must go see to her." He said, passing behind the couch.

"Uncle…" his niece called softly. He turned back,

"It is fine, Elfwyn." He said, interrupting the Nurse whom was about to scold the girl for being informal, as he walked the few paces back to her. He kissed the top of her head, "You will be able to see your mother soon, Éowyn." He promised her before leaving. She turned to watch him disappear into the doorway, and then she heard the light hurried footfalls on the other side of the room. She turned to see two young boys with golden hair running from the same door Elfwyn had come through only moments before.

"Éomer!" she called desperately from the couch and he ran over to her, taking her hand.

"What has happened to mother?" he asked them.

"She's dying!" Éowyn trembled.

"Sssh, my darling." Elfwyn said, she pulled Éowyn onto her lap, "You're mother has fainted, they have taken her into her room." She told him, stroking his sister's hair.

"Fainted?" Éomer asked, "Is she ill?"

"I do not believe so, she is young and perhaps only grief stricken from the death of Lord Éomund. She has never been ill in all her life and she is very strong." She attempted to reassure him, but Éomer's eyes still stung with tears despite her words. "Come now," she said, holding out her free arm towards him. He stood beside her as she embraced him, "You as well, Theodred." She told the other boy. He went over to Éowyn and held Elfwyn's hand that was on the girls shoulder. "Now, no tears, Lady Theodwyn will be fine, you will see." She told them in a low voice, unsure of her own words but desperate to ease the worried hearts of the children.

**A/N: My appearances are NOT based off of the movies. I am using the descriptions that Tolkien used for characters and some of my own where he did not elaborate or that I do not remember, because I do not own the books so I cannot refer back to them at my disposal. **


	2. Chapter 2

"Éowyn!" called Elfwyn from somewhere in Meduseld. Éowyn however was hurrying in the opposite direction of her nurse. She ran out of a door leading to a small yard with a low stone wall, its use long forgotten. On the wall was a man, slightly smaller than a lot of the men of Rohan. He seemed to be singing softly to himself.

"Gríma!" she said, recognizing him, he turned around his young face amused, "Hide me!" she breathed.

"Come then, and sit on the other side of this wall, if Elfwyn should pass this way, I shall not give you away." He reassured her, knowing the routine, and she jumped over the wall, sitting on the ground, tucking her head down. "Éowyn, you should not sit on the ground in your white dress." Gríma told her kindly and she groaned as she moved into a crouching position. "Is it weaving again?" he asked.

"Éowyn!" Elfwyn's call as she opened the door cut off the girls answer. "Oh! Lord Gríma!" The nurse said as she noticed him, "I'm sorry to intrude on your solitude, my lord."

"You have done nothing wrong, Elfwyn." He said sincerely, "You are looking for the Lady Éowyn then?" he asked her, she leaned on the door frame out of exhaustion.

"Indeed I am, she's run off right before her weaving lessons again."

"Perhaps weaving is not for the young princess." He suggested.

"She has no choice; all ladies must learn to weave."

"You are right. I apologize, I am in no place to make assumptions about the shaping of a lady of the kings court."

Elfwyn sighed, unconcerned about his assumptions, "It's quite alright. You haven't happened to see her, have you?"

"No, I have not. I have been here all morning, it is likely she could have used the door behind me without my knowledge, for many things escape me when I am in deep thought." He admitted, Elfwyn looked around the yard for a moment,

"I doubt she is out here." She said ruling out any outside search for the girl. "If you see, please detain her and bring her to me promptly, if you will?"

He bowed his head, "I will do my best, my lady." She blushed at his hint to subservience and left them.

Éowyn looked up into Gríma's face, "You are too good at that, my lord. I almost believed I was not sitting here at all."

"It was not as easy for me as it may have seemed, Lady Éwoyn, I nearly laughed at one point during that conversation. You give me far too much credit. Besides, not all of it was a lie."

"Either way, I must be careful of this devious talent of yours in the future."

"I would never set out to deceive you, my lady." He reassured her. She shifted her position and sat down, regardless of her dress. She tucked her knees to her chest as she stared out to the mountain tops.

"I hate weaving," she said, "And stitching, and cooking and…"

"What don't you hate, my lady?" Gríma asked, looking down at her.

"Sword fighting!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up.

"Have you ever…"

"I have!" she said, cutting him off. "Theodred showed me once, much to my brother's disapproval. Éomer does not like the idea of me fighting, or even learning how."

"That's expected."

"Why?" she asked quickly.

"He is your brother, he wants to protect you."

"What if he is not there to protect me? Then I must learn to protect myself! There will always be foes, and women who have not swords can still die upon them."

"That is true, but we do not like to think that it will ever come to that."

"I care not what people _like_ to think about, they _must_ consider it, and we are in as much danger here without swords, than the Rohirrim is on the battle field."

"You seem very passionate about this," he said carefully, "Why do you not ask the King for permission to learn sword fighting?" he suggested, "I am sure if you told him everything you have told me, he will not be able to deny you."

She did not reply as she weighed his words in her head, staring out to the snow capped peaks. She gnawed on the inside of her lip and finally she stood up and looked down at him, she was a tall girl, not even ten winters old. And yet as she looked over her shoulder at him, her pale hair catching the morning sun, she looked proud and brave, "I shall ask him straightaway." She declared and climbed over the wall, "Will you come and defend my proposition?" she asked from the door.

He turned to her, "I will be in shortly, my lady." He said gently, "Though I do not believe you need any defending." He added, she smiled and disappeared down the corridor.


	3. Chapter 3

The tall broad frame of King Theoden stepped out of a room; he was balancing an armful of scrolls. He held one out, reading it over, his mouth moving slightly with the words. "Good morning, my lord," Éowyn said up to him, he peered past the scrolls briefly down at his niece. He smiled and patted her head before refocusing his attention to the parchments.

"Good morning, sister-daughter." He said as he continued down the corridor to the throne room. She was slightly discouraged before pursuing him,

"My lord, if I could request an audience with your Highness." she said to his back but he continued on.

"Not now, I have matters to attend to." King Theoden said emerging into the Golden Hall. He sat upon the throne as Gríma came and sat beside him. He gave Éowyn an encouraging look before Theoden pulled his advisers attention to the scrolls. "See here, Gríma, this is what I was referring to." He said as they studied the text thoughtfully.

After a few moments Grima cleared his throat and gestured to Éowyn as if seeing her for the first time standing patiently.

"I do not mean to impose, my lord, but it seems the young Éowyn has business with us." He suggested to the King.

"Yes," Theoden said as he looked over at her, "I was perhaps waiting for Elfwyn to discover her. Well, Éowyn, it appears this matter cannot wait?" he asked, a small smile hiding beneath his beard.

"I am afraid not, my lord."

He nodded and gestured for her to continue as he leaned back. She bowed, "Thank you, my lord. I must hurry for Elfwyn discovering me is the very thing I am dreading."

Theoden smiled, "Do not concern yourself; I will protect you from your nurse, for now."

"I am gracious my lord, for you see I am avoiding the kind lady at the moment because of my weaving lessons." She confessed, "I detest weaving with every fiber in my being and cooking and stitching. But that is no matter, what I am requesting my lord, is if I may learn to fight with a sword, like Eomer and Theodred." She said abruptly, the king's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Learn to fight?" he asked, leaning forward, she kept his gaze until his stern eyes were unbearable and she bowed her head in shame. "And you hate weaving?" he asked, a bit of surprise in his voice. "Well…" he said, trailing off, she dared to look up, as she held her breath. "Why I don't think your grandmother ever weaved a day in her life…." He told them, as he stared off into space. He looked over at her, the corners of his mouth turning up, "But she could wield a sword." He said, his eyes twinkling, "And that's something not many people know about Lady Morwen."

Her eyebrows raised expectantly and he nodded while laughing lightly, "Yes, of course you may learn to fight." He told her, she could not suppress her grin. "And you never have to weave again."

"Oh uncle!" she shouted joyfully and leapt into his arms. He laughed as he embraced her; she kissed his bearded cheek, "Thank you, my lord, thank you!"

"Now go find Elfwyn and tell her the news." He said releasing her; she smiled back at him before running across the hall to find her nurse.

"You encourage this?" Gríma asked quietly, his jaw tight.

"Did you think that I would not?" Theoden asked, glancing up at him.

"Do you not consider the dangers?"

"Lady Éowyn learning to fight and sending her to battle are two different matters entirely." He said gruffly.

"Perhaps," he was not convinced, "Shall we get back to these scrolls then, my lord?"

"Yes, let us do just that."

**A/N: Suggestions and criticism are always welcome. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Grima stood beside Meduseld looking grimly down at the training ring, the men of the Rohirrim stood around with equally serious expressions. Within the ring were Lord Eomund's children, heated from the hot sun, they were both dressed in armor, their training swords slamming against the others. Eowyn was well suited and was putting up such an equal match that one could have forgotten she was actually a girl. They were furiously battling one another as Theodred bit his lip nervously.

"Come on, Eowyn." He whispered under his breath as he shook his fist in encouragement. "Come on." Both of the siblings were coated in sweat and dirt, the summer sun beating down on their smothered bodies.

Eowyn felt herself growing tired at her constant efforts against Eomer. His onslaught was ferocious. He wasn't taking it easy on her because she was his sister. She was getting the same treatment as everyone else he went up against. And so far, at his age of fifteen he was already becoming a challenge to most of the men in the kings Rohirrim.

Her arms grew heavy just as Eomer knocked her to the ground. She let out a cry as she landed on her side, her sword falling from her hand. She looked back up at Eomer's stern countenance. She got up, picking up her weapon, she advanced, swinging her sword toward his leg, he blocked her and sent her stumbling backwards.

"You should rest now, Eowyn." He suggested as they moved in a circle around one another. She didn't reply but only lunged forward sloppily. "You're tired, sister, you aren't in control." He told her truthfully. Her mouth was set in a straight line, her nostrils flaring. She went for him again but he moved out of the way sending her reeling into the wall. "You're in no condition to fight."

She was leaning against the wall looking into Theodred's eyes. He squeezed her hand,

"Maybe you should give it up, Eowyn." He said quietly.

"You see, Eowyn, the battlefield is no place for a woman."

"No orc in war fights like that Eomer." Theodred told him over his cousins head.

"Some do, cousin, and perhaps will we not always be fighting orcs."

Eowyn stumbled from the wall to the gate of the training ring. She didn't look back as the men separated for her and she walked away. Eomer did not appear to be pleased with his victory as a few men walked past him into the ring to start a mock battle.

The fight between siblings wasn't pleasant for anyone to watch or either of them to participate in. Eowyan marched up the path to the side door where Grima was standing. She looked up at hi,m, tears stinging her eyes.

"My lady," he said gently, she stopped, her head shaking as her face twisted, while she tried to hold back her tears of frustration.

"Grima… I cannot…" she said softly, but then Eomer called her name from the bottom of the path. She looked back to see him begin ascending quickly towards them. She turned around and hurried into Meduseld. Eomer reached Grima and looked at him unkindly,

"What did you say to my sister?" he said between clenched teeth.

"Nothing at all, young lord." He replied, but Eomer narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He stepped up to the king's advisor as if to say something else. But Theodred came up behind him and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Eomer," The Kings son advised his cousin nonchalantly. Eomer backed away from Grima, his jaw tight and ran in after Eowyn. Theodred gave Grima an uncertain smile and a shrug before going in after his peers. Grima could hear Eowyn and Eomer shouting at one another as he walked down the path.

**A/N: Grima... grimly, ahaha... anyway, let me know what you think. I gave up on the accents on their names. Maybe I'll do it next chapter. The grammar is probably all muffed up in this chapter... because I'm honestly terrible at grammar. **


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